Shopping Bags Full of Love
by GlowingPatchwork
Summary: Zulf was a mundane man. Mundane job, mundane views, mundane life in general. But when a dorky Ura girl shuffles up to his till, stammers out a series of cringe-worthy pickup lines and somehow sticks in his brain, what is a man to do?


Zulf did not like his job. He stood for hours listening to nattering old women, aggressive "football moms" and patriotic dads set with screaming children, irritating teenagers and adults alike and so many more it physically pained him. If he had to listen to one more rant about Freddo-related inflation or "these damned immigrants stealing our jobs" he was certain he'd go mad.

At least he didn't have to respond to them. A cashier's job lies in his communication skills, but... only to an extent. Nodding agreeably or tutting in feigned disgust normally got him through the day just fine. The pay was poor but no decent jobs were offering at the moment, and this seemed the most stress-free. He didn't particularly have ambitions enough to aim higher.

Since he was in high school, really, he lacked any goals. His plan was to work hard, get decent grades, get a mundane but rich job and play it by ear from there, but he lacked the motivation to really invest himself into any mundane rich-job tasks or work. People always said he was so intelligent; he had such skills, such a bright future- but he wasted it. He didn't feel bad. He didn't really have anything he wanted to do. Cashier fitted in perfectly with that; he was surrounded by dropouts or soulless adults, just like him. It was comfortable. Not to mention that there was this one lady cashier he'd had his eye on recently...

She wasn't beautiful, but she had a nice vibe about her and she was pretty cute. Seemed good for a short fling; just to point out, Zulf didn't put much thought or effort into relationships either. Love just wasn't a big deal to him. Sex was nice, but love really was not; he'd tried it only once, and... yeah, no. Never.

As he was checking out the cute, short-cropped hair of the cashier a couple checkouts away, laughing amiably with some random old man who's eyes did not leave her chest even once, a nervous cough brought him back to reality.

A shy looking girl was wringing her hands, her items almost slipping off the conveyor belt as it wheeled onwards. Grabbing a few items that had slipped onto his lap, he jolted, muttered "shit," and got right to work.

He paused for a moment. "Sorry. I shouldn't swear."

"Oh, it's fine." The girl dismissed it with a wave of her hand, her blush darkening as he offered her a small smirk and went back to scanning her items.

She had about twenty items in total, most of them ingredients, with a few sweets hidden among them. He wasn't sure why he paid attention to it. Judging peoples' items was fun when he started the job, but got old surprisingly quickly. Thing is, the girl hadn't stopped staring at him once, and it was... a little unnerving, truth be told.

He flashed an awkward smile. There were no items left to scan. She had completely neglected to bag any of them; she seemed rather transfixed on his face.

"Sorry!" Her daydream shattered. Eyes filled with panic and cheeks somehow further reddening, she hastily shoved them into their bags. He leaned over and gave her a hand; she had a lot of heavy stuff to fit in. He was semi tempted to ask if she could manage it alone, but decided it would either offend her or get him too deep in her business, neither of which he wanted. The items were packed. Communication via payment would be awkward.

"Cash or card?" He asked, as respectfully as he could. Honestly he'd much rather she just left; he was quite uncomfortable.

"Cas- card. Card, please." Could she not get two words out without blushing? He stifled a snort and nodded, his outward smile plastered onto his face. If only he could wear a mask, or something like that. His face always ached at the end of a shift.

After she had keyed in her numbers, etc, etc, he smiled at her again and bidded her farewell. Honestly, he was a human self-service machine. All his speech was basically pre-built and very much automated.

"A-Are you google?" A little voice squeaked. He furrowed his brows and looked at her, equal parts confused and uncomfortable.

"No...?"

"Because you- you have, uhm... youhaveeverythingimsearchingfor." She stammered out.

"...What?" She was looking to him, so eager for his response, and let out a shaky sigh.

"Because you have everything I'm looking for." She squeaked again, picked up her bags, and bolted out the door. He watched her go.

The girl had made him a little uncomfortable, he'd admit. The bright pink blush had (figuratively) highlighted her, made her stand out more to him; he paid particular attention to her from the start. Had he ever seen her before? If she frequented his queues, he'd never noticed.

His questioning of her, his paying attention to her in general, was disturbing him. He faced everything and everyone with apathy, lived a simple, stress-free life and was happy with it- so why was he so bothered by one intrusive customer?

...Well, she probably wouldn't ever come again; especially not after that fiasco. He shrugged, and turned to his next customer.


End file.
